Say It Again
When you invited Harry over for the night, you never imagined it would be like this. You were lonely and you wanted to spend some time with him. A lot of things were supposed to happen, but this was not meant to be one of them.
“I don’t even know why I’m here.”
“Wait! Harry, please don’t go.” You were getting weak in the knees and felt tears prickling your eyes.
He looked at you pointedly. “Did you have something you needed to say?”
You opened your mouth, but no words came out. You didn’t know what to do.
“I don’t think I’m asking for much. I can’t keep doing this with you. This constant push and pull. I feel like I’m giving you so much but getting so little in return. I won’t give my all to you if you refuse to tell me how you feel.”
“Harry I-” you began again, but couldn’t form the words.
You stared at him blankly.
“I didn’t think so.” He gathered his belongings and walked out of the door. Out of your life.
You collapsed on the floor in utter despair and began crying. Not the soft tears that slip down your cheeks sometimes when you were overly anxious or frustrated. You were ugly crying. The kind of crying that took over your body and caused snot and drool and all those other nasty facial fluids to make an appearance.
You weren’t sure how long you remained in that position, but when you finally dragged yourself off the floor there was a crick in your neck, soreness in your lower lumbar, and a hole in your heart.
Things between you and Harry were more complicated than you intended them to be. You’re a song writer which was how you met him in the first place. One studio session turned into two. Two turned into four. Then, studio sessions turned into going out for lunch and dinner depending on how long you were working with him. Lunch and dinner turned into hanging out outside of the studio. And, things just went further from there. It was fine, though, when the two of you were just friends, but then all of a sudden you weren’t. Like a page from out of sappy, romance novel feelings ensued. The thing is, you didn’t know how to deal with those feelings. These were new waters that you were not used to treading. You couldn’t identify the words to express the emotions that bubbled to the surface whenever he was near. You didn’t know what you were feeling but you liked it, and that was terrifying.
It was never your intention to be so hot and cold with him, holding him close one second then refusing to stay the night the next. And, it definitely wasn’t your intention to hurt him. But, you did. Now you had to reap the consequences.
Feeling so empty inside sucks. Not knowing when, if, Harry was coming back around sucks. Having to pretend that you’re okay when you’re not sucks. Everything sucks.
Harry knew you weren’t good with feelings. You’d told him that much. He understood how new this whole situation was to you and constantly made sure you were comfortable. Maybe he was just having a moment. Maybe he just needed time to adjust. Maybe he wasn’t done with you. Maybe.
You convinced yourself that this was all just a big misunderstanding. It wasn’t going to end like this. You were sure of it. Harry would be coming back around in no time.
Harry didn’t come back around.
It’d been nearly two weeks of complete radio silence between the two of you, and it hurt. Every day, every hour, every minute, every second was more painful than the last. You would need both thumbs, all eight fingers, all ten toes, and then some to count the times you almost contacted him. But what were you to say? “Hey I still don’t know how I feel, but could you come around again? I’m lonely.” No. That’s what made him leave you in the first place.
You couldn’t get him off of your mind, though. He was in your every passing thought. I wonder if I need more milk. Harry. Aw, what a cute baby. Harry. How does gene regulation coincide with cell differentiation? Harry. I miss Harry. Harry. It was awful.
The last time you thought this hard and often about a guy was your ex boyfriend. You were so completely head over heels for him; it was sad. Thought he hung the moon. And oh. You contemplated the feelings that your harbored for your ex boyfriend, at the time, and compared them to the symptoms that came up whenever you were around Harry. Suddenly, everything made sense. The steady presence he held in your mind. The constant swarm of butterflies. The intense urge to be around him. You loved him. You were in love with him.
Your chest began constricting, and you began to have trouble drawing oxygen into your lungs. You needed a glass of water and a nap. It was a lot to take in. It pained you to realize these things after you swore off guys and dating and really anything to do with relationships. It pained you to realize that Harry changed that view within you. And, it especially pained you to realize that you messed it all up.
Your previous relationship that made you want to cast off the thought of love altogether ended in shambles. Your heart was left in rubbish pile of pieces. You had swept those pieces into a bag, put that bag in a box, and put a lock on the box. Somehow Harry managed to break through your extensive security measures and piece it back together without you noticing. But because you’ve been so oblivious, you’ve ruined it.
You refused to let it end like this. There was only one thing you could do. You had to tell him. You doubted that he would want to hear it after you’ve been moping around in ignorance for over two weeks though. However, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You didn’t want any what ifs, or the inevitable pain that followed. You had to do what you had to do.
You wrote him a song, recorded a rough demo, and now you’re going to play it for him. To say you were nervous was an understatement. You were putting yourself out there in a way you never thought you would again. Albeit, it wasn’t a very conventional way to express yourself, but he is an international pop star. Nothing in his life is conventional anymore. After standing outside the gate for his house for about fifteen minutes, you finally worked up the courage to find the bell. (You knew the passcode, of course, but you weren’t on good terms with him and didn’t want to overstep your boundaries). You gasped lightly and your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice over the intercom. “Y/N, what are you doing here?” He sounded defeated.
“I have something to tell– er show you.”
He sighed one more time before you heard the gate make a noise then begin to open. You proceeded down the path to his door with your heart palpitating and your entire body trembling with anxious nervousness at seeing him again.
Harry was already waiting for you at the door, as you made your way to the house. You stopped just short of the front porch. “May I come in?”
“I opened the gate for you, didn’t I?” He answered in a snarky tone.
“Right,” you said, nodding your head as you slid past him into the house. You stood in the foyer looking around, waiting for him to lead you into a room where you could talk.
“You’ve been here a million times. I don’t know why you’re acting like you don’t know where the den is.”
Your face curled into a snarl at his sass. “This isn’t going to work, if you’re going to be rude.”
He gave you a pointed look. “You said you have something to show me.”
You rolled your eyes, but continued into the den nonetheless. You sat on the couch and began unloading your things from your backpack to set up the recording. “What is this?” he asked.
“Shhh… Just wait a second.” Once everything was set up, you plugged the speaker into your computer and let the track play. A small grin was plastered onto your face, allowing just a bit of pride to shine through. Harry, on the other hand, kept an unreadable expression on his as the track faded out. You kind of expected more of a reaction out of him, so you were confused, to say the least, that he just stared back at you as you bit your lip nervously. “Well… say something.”
“What was that?”
“That would be a song called I’m Yours that will be on Alessia Cara’s debut album.”
“So you came all this way to play me someone else’s song?”
You looked at him in bewilderment. He was a smart kid; you didn’t think you’d have to spell it out for him. “No, no I wrote it,” you corrected him quickly.
“And, that’s supposed to impress me?”
He was being so cold to you. You’d never seen him act this way towards anyone. To say you were taken aback was an understatement. You shook your head in disbelief. “I–I was– no. You– I– this is what you wanted. You wanted me to tell you how I feel and…”
“That is not what just happened. That was Alessia Cara–”
“Singing my song that I wrote about…” You cleared your throat. “About you.”
“Look at you. You can’t even admit that without stuttering. I honestly don’t know why you came down if this is all you had to show me.”
“Why are you being so mean to me?”
“Because you came in here expecting things to be a fairytale, and it’s not. Don’t forget that I know you,” he said pointing a finger at you. “I know all about how your little song writing escapades go. You sit around with whoever you’re writing, take their ideas, and craft it into some sort of song. But, don’t try to act like one thing you’ve ever written is a reflection of what’s going on inside your head or heart.”
You got caught up in being hurt over what he said for one second before blinding fury rose from you. “You know what? That is how I write songs and do you know why that is?” You stood up and asked not allowing time for a response. “Because I am a firm believer that an artist’s music should be a reflection of how they feel. It should be a compilation of their life and their experiences. And, most of the time it’s like–it’s like I have all these words floating around in my head but none of them are mine. But, that’s not how this went.”
“I wrote this song in my apartment by myself when all I could think about was you and how badly I messed up and how I would do anything to get you back. I pitched this song to her—demo and all—then rushed to get something together to show you!” You paused, chest heaving. “So, don’t you dare try to tell me about myself.”
He stood and tugged at his hair. “God, Y/N. I don’t want you to show me anything. I’m not asking for much. I just want you to tell me how you feel.”
You were so frustrated with his obsession with verbal confirmations. “Oh, my gosh, Harry, don’t you know that actions speak louder than words?”
“Not if you’re blind!”
You paused for a moment pondering over his comeback. “Not if– what?”
He stopped thinking about what he said as well. “I don’t know.”
You shook your head in an attempt to rid yourself of his comment. Enough was enough. “Look, I don’t want to argue,” you sighed. “Are you willing to discuss this like proper adults?”
He sat back down weighing the portions in his head before nodding in agreement. “Alright, but let me go first.” He looked at you for approval and continued on when you remained silent. “Look, this is kind of like a big thing for me because I like you, okay? I like you a lot. You know that. I’ve told you that. And, it’s very frustrating with you leading me on like this, especially because I can’t get you out of my head. I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to and it hasn’t worked. I need someone who’s going to commit to me. I’m in a unique position being in the public eye and it’s going to be hard. If you can’t even admit that you at least feel something for me,” he said inching closer to you and fiddling with your hand, “then this will never work.”
You looked at him incredulously for a few moments, then snatched your hand away from him. “You’re honestly the best and worst thing to ever happen to me and I can’t decide if I wish I never met you or if I want to meet you all over again.” He gazed at you with a confused expression gracing his face. “This isn’t all about you, you know? It’s difficult for me to be like this, to be vulnerable with people. I didn’t have a touchy-feely, mushy-gushy family, okay? And, whenever I’ve been with someone it’s like I’m the only one who ever gets hurt. I’m so tired of it.” You paused to take a breath after your eyes began to get misty. You made it this far; you weren’t about to start crying now. It was oddly quiet in the room, nothing to be heard but the sound or hours and Harry’s breathing. You continued on. “You say that I’m leading you on, but I’m not. You mistake my choice of not saying how I feel as s reflection of me not feeling anything at all, but I assure you it’s precisely the opposite. I’m so reserved about it because it seems like whenever someone says something like that the universe wants to hook you up to a polygraph machine to see if you really mean what you say. That’s generally when things start going wrong. So, pardon me for not wanting to profess my love for you from the rooftops.”
He audibly gasped while his pupils dilated and jaw dropped before his expression softened. He brought his hand to rest at the base of your neck, while his forehead met yours. “Baby, you don’t have to shout it from the rooftops; just whisper it in my ear. It’ll be our little secret and the universe I’ll never have to know.”
Ever so gently he pressed his lips to yours and you melted into him. It truly felt like everything that happened between the two of you led up to this moment. It wasn’t just you and him kissing because it was fun or a flash of exhilaration from sneaking around whilst you were supposed to be working. It was a promise. A promise to end the stupidity and be together. A promise to not hurt each other anymore. A promise that this is going to be the start of something good.
He pulled you onto his lap and you straddled his waist in order to deepen the kiss. But, before it could go too far you pulled back. “I love you.” His face split into an award winning smile, dimples on full display.
“Say it again.”
“I love you.” He fastened your mouth back to his. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you,” you murmured in between kisses.
“I love you, too.”